2. Leta

2

LETA

T he defiant part of me is tempted to tell Jake that if he wants my panties off, he should take them off. But, honestly, it's hot, him telling me what to do. This is what I was looking for: a man who knows what he's doing. A man who isn't afraid to take charge. One night of glorious sex and then we'll both go on with our lives.

In an attempt to be flirty, I tease my fingers over the hem of my dress. "Maybe I'm not wearing any," I say.

He looks mildly amused. "You are. I saw your panty lines when you were storming away from me."

I harrumph.

"Fine," I say, reaching under the skirt of my dress and hooking my thumbs around the sides of my underwear. I slide them down over my hips, trying to do it seductively but not succeeding. "Happy now?"

"Getting there." He slides a hand over my curves, caressing the rises and dips of my body. His touch feels luxurious. He's taking his time, exploring on his own terms. I ache against his large hand. To be touched like this feels like a fantasy come true. When his hand brushes over the front of my thigh, I feel my nipples pebble in anticipation of him touching me between my legs.

But he lifts his hand before it gets there and instead takes my hand to guide me toward the bed.

Like everything else in this hotel room, the bed is gorgeous. It's far bigger than any two people would need—although, looking at how big Jake is, maybe that's not such an accurate assessment to make. The linens look dreamily plush, and when I fall back against them, I discover that they're as soft as clouds.

I can't imagine having a bad night of sleep in a bed like this.

I exhale a pleasured sigh and look at the ridiculously attractive man standing at the foot of the bed. I never knew I had a thing for big, impeccably dressed men, but apparently I do. His suit looks expensive and custom tailored. His short, chestnut brown hair looks like it was cut one individual hair at a time with a pair of golden scissors. But he's not entirely clean-cut—there's a roughness to his face, an intriguing sexiness to the faint wrinkles around his eyes. He looks like a man who has an overwhelming amount of responsibility on his shoulders. A leader. A man who has to keep up appearances and make hard decisions that affect lots of people.

I've been turned on since I first laid eyes on him, but my arousal is at an all-time high now. There's something undeniably hot about being in a hotel room with a complete stranger—but, being the person that I am, I also can't stop myself from wondering who this man really is. As I watch him unbutton his suit jacket with one hand and casually drape it over the back of a nearby chair, I prop myself up on my elbows.

"Are you a CEO of something?" I ask with a smile. "Wait—let me guess. You run a company that manufactures high-end bottled water."

He tugs his tie loose and throws it over his draped jacket. His eyes sear into me as he comes over, entirely ignoring my question. Instead, he grabs my calves and pulls me to the edge of the bed.

The next thing I know, he's kneeling between my legs, his hands sliding up over my bare thighs. I gasp when his hand moves between my legs. His fingertips graze my clit, circling over the swollen bud and drawing a soft moan from my lips.

" Oh ," I say, feeling my face flush. "That's— oh ."

"Nice?" he prompts.

"Yes," I squeak out. "Very nice."

He trails his fingers over my slit, then pushes one inside me. A sound escapes my throat that I've never made before. His eyes darken with satisfaction and he starts to slowly slide his finger in and out of me.

"Tell me what you want," he demands.

"M-more? Of this?" I manage to say.

"Is that all you want?" His voice is deep, unrelentingly sexy. "You just want me to finger you? Make you gush all over my hand?"

His dirty talk washes over me like a hot shower. For a moment, my mind goes blank with pleasure, but then the words come to me.

"No," I say with a sudden rush of boldness. "I want you to fuck me."

A hint of a smile ticks up the corner of his mouth. He adds another finger inside me. "Good girl. Say it again."

"I want you to fuck me." I almost sob the words. His fingers are pumping harder in and out of me now, the wet sound of my arousal impossible to ignore.

"Good. I will, after I make you come."

Keeping his fingers going, he dips his head between my thighs. I gasp for air when his tongue laves my clit, hungrily lapping at me. I spread my legs wider as he continues to eat me out, sucking and licking my clit like he's been craving it for days.

It's almost an overload of pleasure. I can't stop the orgasm that comes barreling through me. My tongue feels tied but I somehow manage to choke out that I'm about to come, and then I'm bucking against his mouth, moaning loudly as I come.

He slides his fingers out of me and I whimper at the loss. His hands move to impatiently tug my dress up over my head, mussing my hair in the process.

I watch as he rises up to his full height and undresses the rest of the way. His fingers glide over the pearlescent buttons on his shirt, slipping each one out of its slit and slowly unveiling a broad, sculpted chest worthy of being on a huge billboard somewhere. I'm mesmerized as I watch him shrug out of his shirt and then undo his belt.

And then he's standing before me completely naked, like a sculpture come to life: all hard abs and muscular thighs and a big, thick, smooth cock.

I'm fully absorbed in his gorgeous body as he tears open a square packet and deftly rolls a condom on. Then he joins me on the bed, lowering himself over me, the masculine scent of his cologne intoxicating me. His hips push my thighs wide, pinning them open.

His skin is hot against mine, his muscles taut. He reaches between us and drags the head of his cock over my slit before pushing the heavy tip against me. I suck in a sharp breath as I feel him start to penetrate me, the immensity of his cock overwhelming.

"Touch yourself, Leta," he murmurs. "Rub that pretty clit for me."

I let out a breath and slide a hand between us to touch myself. He pushes in a little more, stretching me wide. Then more. And more. Gasping, I rub myself harder, in disbelief at how full I feel.

"Atta girl." Jake's voice comes out hoarse. His biceps strain as he steadies himself. He pulls partway out of me and then pushes back in. "You're doing so well, taking your first cock."

I'm too speechless to respond. I bury my face against his corded neck and he starts fucking me with faster thrusts, pushing in deeper each time. His groans are so hot.

Stroke by stroke, he stretches me, gets me used to his big size. Soon we're both panting for air, our bodies moving in a new rhythm together. I have no idea what I'm doing, but somehow with him it all feels natural, instinctive.

"Come, Leta."

I whimper an unintelligible reply against his hot skin.

"That's it," he growls. "You're so close, aren't you? You can do it, honey. Come all over my cock while I fuck you. Let me feel it."

I cry out as a tidal wave of pleasure crashes over me. My whole body shakes as I come, my pussy pulsing hard around his cock. My hot stranger curses under his breath as he punches his hips forward, driving extra deep. I feel him throb inside me and an aftershock of an orgasm rushes through me.

For several seconds, I'm fully lost in the exquisiteness of our shared bliss.

With a satisfied exhale, Jake rolls off me, sinking into the marshmallow-soft duvet beside me. But he only rests for a moment before pulling himself up and walking into the bathroom. The sight of his fine-as-hell naked ass makes me blush. I listen as he drops the condom into the trash bin and washes his hands. When he walks out, he nonchalantly picks up a folder from the table and starts flipping through it.

"You want something to eat?" he asks.

I roll onto my side, propping my head up with my hand. "I wouldn't say no to a burger and fries."

"I'll get you a shake, too. They're good here."

Does he know that because this is his go-to spot for one-night stands? I shake the thought away, reminding myself that it doesn't matter what the answer is. "Sounds delicious."

After he orders us room service, he turns to look at me and a half-smile spreads across his face.

"Well?" he asks, slowly walking over to the bed. "What's your verdict about sex, now that you've done it?"

I shrug. "Eh. It was all right, I guess."

He breathes out a laugh. "Funny girl. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Nope. I'm good." I push myself up and scoot to the edge of the bed, smiling at him. "Was I okay?"

"You were more than okay." He rubs a thumb over my bottom lip. "I'm glad you decided to stay."

It's hard to ignore the fact that he's hard again. "I can see how glad you are." Curiosity and desire compels me to reach out and wrap my hand around his cock. I move my hand up and down in a tentative slow stroke, then look up at him. "Am I doing this right?"

He wraps a hand over mine and shows me how he likes it. When he drops his hand, I keep the motion going, and he lets out a satisfied grunt.

"Faster," he guides me. "That's it. Just like that."

My breathing quickens along with his. I part my lips, feeling a growing desire to wrap my mouth around his cock. But when I start to dip my head, his hand shoots out and digs through my hair, pulling me back.

"Do that and I'll come in that pretty mouth of yours," he warns me.

I smile. "Promise?"

He huffs out a laugh, then guides my head forward. I open my mouth and slide my lips around his throbbing cock. With a groan, his fingers tighten in my hair, holding my head as I bob up and down his length.

"Use your tongue," he commands. "Show me how much you love my cock."

I do as he says, feeling unsure that I'm doing it right but more than willing to try.

"Lick the tip." He sucks in a sharp breath as I do. "Good girl. Just like that."

His fingers tighten harder in my hair as he nears his orgasm, and then his hips jerk forward as he meets his release. A thick jet of warm cum spurts over my tongue and down my throat, making me press my thighs together.

"Jesus," he breathes out, letting his hand fall out of my hair. He lets out a low, gorgeous laugh, and then hooks his fingers under my chin to lift it up. "Where the hell did you come from?"

The next day, it feels like my night with Jake was a dream. If not for the pleasant sore ache between my legs, I might think it actually was all a dream. Twenty-eight-year-old virgins don't meet up with hot, bossy men in beautiful hotels for a night of countless orgasms and sex lessons. Maybe in imagined fantasies, but not in the real world.

"Miss Jones?"

I snap out of my stupor and return to the reality that I should be a whole lot more present in right now. Smiling apologetically at the student sitting in the chair beside me, I quickly glance at the half-finished math homework sitting in front of us.

"All right, Freddie. Let's tackle the next problem. What's the first step?"

My tutee twists his lips in uncertainty as he considers the equation. "Subtract five from both sides?"

I smile, feeling proud of him. Just a few weeks ago, he was so frustrated with his math homework that he didn't even want to try doing it. "Exactly right."

The sound of the tutoring center's front door opening draws my attention toward it. I look over expecting to see more students arriving, but my heart sinks when I see who just walked in.

"I'll check in with you in a bit, okay, Freddie?" I say as I stand up. "Keep up the good work. You've got this."

As I approach the two men who just walked in, I silently tell myself the same thing: You've got this, Leta. You're not losing this place. But the truth is that I'm not at all confident about the future of the tutoring business I've worked so hard to build up. At the end of the day, my landlord has the power to tear it all down.

"Mr. Wegman," I say, offering a controlled, barely-there smile as I approach. "I didn't know you were stopping by today."

"Didn't tell you I was," he says, hardly giving me a glance. "Don't worry about us, Miss Jones. We won't be here long."

He doesn't introduce the man he's brought with him, but I know he must be a potential tenant. This isn't the first time my landlord has brought someone by to look at the space. I don't know what he's telling these potential tenants, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's telling them that the current tenant—yours truly—is moving out soon.

Which is not the case. Not if I can help it.

But first I have to find a way to afford the hike in rent he's demanding.

And that's going to be a feat and a half, especially considering that my tutoring center offers its services free of charge—and there's absolutely no way I'm changing that.

All I want to do right now is kick out these unwanted visitors. But I don't have that kind of power, so I do the only thing I can do, which is to ignore their presence and get back to work. Looking around the room, I scan the tables for any kids who look like they need help and aren't currently being assisted by one of the handful of volunteer tutors currently on shift. At the moment, all of the kids look like they're doing okay—even Freddie is hunched over his math homework, fully concentrating on it—so I head into the tiny back room that is my office.

Alone, I sit down in my squeaky chair, let out a sigh, and stare at the calendar hanging on the opposite wall.

Two weeks from now, I'll no longer be able to afford rent.

The prospect of losing this space is too depressing to fully think about. It's not just about the inconvenience and hassle of finding a new location for the tutoring center, or the pain of packing up and moving everything. The thing that worries me the most is that if I have to move, it could be somewhere far away, and I'll be abandoning all these kids who are seriously struggling in school.

If I fail them like that, I'll never forgive myself.

I screw shut my eyes and slow my breath, trying to calm my mind. Think about something else. Take your mind off it. You'll figure it out, but not by torturing yourself with dismal thoughts.

Desperate for distraction, my thoughts go straight to the devastatingly hot man I spent my evening with last night. Still-fresh memories of his hard, sweaty muscles sliding against my curves flood my mind, and a shiver of remembered pleasure runs up my spine. I'd swiped right on his profile in a moment of needing to get away from my problems for a few hours, and to finally lose my v-card after a lifetime of not meeting anyone I wanted to be intimate with. The fact that it had taken me so long was a little crazy, so why not lose my virginity in a way that was a little crazy? At least that was my reasoning last night.

And Jake had given me exactly what I wanted.

Shame it had to be a one-time thing.